


Small Talk

by charab



Series: Stamp Of Approval [15]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Daimyo's palace, Kiss while getting carried away, M/M, kkir25
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charab/pseuds/charab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cockblocking was hardly a good discussion topic among dignitaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly twisted the meaning of 'carried' that is in the prompt.  
> Prompt: Kiss while being 'carried'

Getting carried away was not a good trait for a shinobi. At least, that's what they were always taught, but it was also known as a matter that was impossible to nip in the bud – it was one part that maintained their humanity, after all. Hence it was taught that it was not advisable to get carried away _while on a mission_ , to be more specific and merciful towards the ranks, even though _mercy_ was an other term not many got along well with. In any case, if one got carried away, should it be either from their uncontrolled emotions or getting drowned into the mayhem of a battle, it usually bore ill results for the whole operative team. Needless to say, it was best not to let that happen.  
  
Iruka frowned and shot a reproachful glance at the silver-haired man who stood by his side and whose displeased aura was currently sucking out the oxygen of the crowded terrace to feed off the ominously rising thunder. When the darkly glaring Rokudaime didn't seem to have noticed the danger that was the rising temper of his lover, the headmaster resolved to get the man's attention with a sharp yank at the man's robes of white and red. “Will you stop that,” he hissed, heedless to the scowl he received for his efforts.  
  
“I will stop it once this charade ends,” the elite jounin murmured back, and then smoothed his robes with a curt nod of a greeting at the chairman of coastal merchants, completing the act of nonchalant stating of superiority with a tilt of his angular hat that shadowed his narrow eyes.  
  
“Oh for the love of,” Iruka hid the exhaled curse behind the long sleeve of his own formal wear of indigo blue and copper threads, which regrettably did nothing to hide the blazing eyes that made the attache from Kumo think twice about approaching the academician, the foreign dignitary discreetly steering his way past the tan man and towards the table of refreshments. Not that Iruka was paying any attention to the ripples of unease happening out of his immediate vision, since he had more acute affairs to deal with. “There is a reason why it's good to be considerate towards the occasion, Rokudaime-sama. You should try that once in a while.”  
  
The sidelong look he received from the masked elite was cold enough to chill the drinks of the bystanders who had ventured too close to the pair.  
  
To those who did not pay too much attention to the exchange between the men, it would have seemed that they were discussing about the elaborate dinner party that the daimyos of Fire and Lightning had decided to throw together in a moments' notice, with Kumo daimyo's palace chosen as the venue for the event. The feast had already lasted for one long afternoon that was now turning into an eventful night, with the exquisite shows of fire and lightning jutsus performed for the entertainment of the civilian guests while they enjoyed the local cuisine with healthy appetite, with the common knowledge of everyone being aware of the ample opportunities that were ruthlessly exploited for forming treaties and agreeing on political views.  
  
However, the occasion the two men were quietly debating about was only partially related to the festivities that buzzed around their formally dressed persons.  
  
“My guards know you, and we've hardly kept it as a secret,” Kakashi noted, his voice quiet and void of emotions, despite the obvious invitation that rang between the lines.  
  
“As a veteran of political scheming I have to oppose that, Rokudaime-sama,” Iruka murmured and then granted a group of noble maidens a smile that made a couple of them blush, which in turn made his dark eyebrow rise an inch and his analytical mind to tick. Alas, he didn't get to put the little ladies under the mental label of 'possible heiresses' when a presence of something very heavy and sharp pressed against his side. That was enough to make him casually step right onto the other's instep and fix the elite with a look of an unimpressed teacher. “Even if it's hardly a secret there is no need to so blatantly advertise it, Hatake-sama. If you don't tone down that intent of yours this instant some of the guests will lose their dinner.” Despite his simmering temper, the tokujo grudgingly noticed it to be an other kind of heat making itself known in his body when he faced the dark gray eyes of the Rokudaime that peered at him beneath the rim of the Hokage's hat. The tokubetsu cursed in his mind, since as much as he regarded himself as a professional, first being two weeks away from his lover and then yanked straight to an other location once having finished with the symposium was putting him into a position where he was seriously contemplating on dismissing his diplomatic guidelines.  
  
Had he known that they were to be put in separate rooms for the sake of the archaic hierarchy system disagreeing with their informal relationship, Iruka would have made sure to intercept Kakashi's travel to the daimyo's palace and have his way with the man on the nearest flat surface. Preferably more than once, to be on the safe side. Judging from the look that the pale Hokage was giving him, Kakashi was on the same page with him regarding the unfortunate plot twist.  
  
“Your skin smells good tonight.” Kakashi's voice sounded suddenly very close to the honey-toned ear, and the jounin took meager pleasure from hearing how the tokubetsu's breathing stilled for a second. Taking it as the permission to continue, the masked elite stood up straighter, turned a bit more towards the dark-skinned man and was careful not to touch the other but only lean into his close range, like they were friendly acquaintances immersed into a conversation, the jounin looking at the scenery around them with a mild expression in his dark gray eyes. “I had plenty of time to think about your scent when you were away, you know.”  
  
Something akin to a suppressed whine rose from Iruka's throat before he covered it with a cough, and while he smoothed a calming hand over his high-tied ponytail, the tan tokujo gave a short glance at the firework stands that were put into position on the palace's highest balconies above their heads. “I cannot accompany you tonight, Rokudaime-sama. The protocol dictates so.” Then the dark eyes scanned the milling crowd around them, cataloging the formal dresses and the family crests on the persons present at the party. “This may be an era of peace, but only a foolish man would leave his back uncovered, Hatake-sama. I have learned that much from this sort of events.” Knowing that he needed to elaborate, the headmaster shifted his weight and let his eyes roam under the lanterns that shone their light over the event, allowing a short eye contact with Shiranui, for both the senbon master and Konohamaru had accompanied him to the event and had taken the roles of his aides once more. “Shiranui-san knows some of the attendants that are present tonight. They say that the Kumo daimyo is a formidable man, Rokudaime-sama. It is only proper to surmise that there is more to his actions than what he lets on.”  
  
“Staying in your room might play into his hands, then,” Kakashi noted, careful not to let his rising hackles show.  
  
“It might, but so would me leaving my room when the shadows are crowded, Rokudaime-sama,” Iruka countered, his tone of voice trying to convey what he could not put into words. “I'm sure you've already thought of that, among the other possibilities. Even the possibility that the man is just ignorant towards the rumors that our own daimyo has tittered to him when they have met.” The dark-skinned shinobi gave himself a permission to shift half a step closer to the powerful man beside him, making sure to keep his posture appropriate for a subordinate, even though a twitch of a smile graced his full lips. “The red and white robes suit you, by the way.”  
  
“I think we both agree that my attire is not what you're thinking about, Umino-san,” Kakashi answered and let a telling smile tilt his masked lips while the jounin followed Konohamaru's floundering by the group of young heiresses who giggled at the young man's charming antics. The silver-haired jounin wasn't really surprised to see the approving smirk that adorned Shiranui's face as the bandanna-wearing tokujo also observed the clan heir in question. The Sandaime's grandson had grown up to be a fine bearer of Sarutobi's name, apparently.  
  
“You're getting carried away with your genius mind again,” Iruka sniffed, yet there was the smile in his voice and the glint in his eyes that spoke of an other kind of response. Then, with a fluid movement of straightening up his sleeves and collar, the tokubetsu pressed his side almost flush against the strong body of his partner in order to duck his head briefly under the wide rim of the hat and let his full lips glide over the masked cheekbone, a ghost of a warm breath caressing the dark fabric that covered the pale skin. “But you are correct. There are plenty of other things I would have preferred to do rather than stand in stiff attention and mind the pecking order like a self-conscious peacock.”  
  
As he caught onto the meaningful intonation in the warm baritone that fell heavily onto the mentioned _cock_ , Kakashi let his body shift to hide the tremor that went down his spine. After that, he gave the tan man a strict look with his sharp, narrow eyes. “It seems that I'm not the only one getting carried away, Umino-san.” Despite the phrasing, his tone was anything but disapproving. Then to the other man's surprise, the jounin did what he rarely indulged himself with, which was putting his renowned speed into questionable use.  
  
For one second, the ambiance under the Hokage's hat intensified and then Iruka felt the press of familiar lips on his own, moist with a flicker of a tongue thrown into the mix, and as quickly as they had ignited the fuse of desire in his hips the jounin's bare lips were covered once again and the unnerving man was soon strolling to the direction of Shiranui and the banquet. Only barely, the dark-haired tokujo managed to put his lungs back under control and willed the rising heat from his cheeks, his dark eyes shamelessly drinking up the sight of the lean body that belonged to Konohagakure's strongest shinobi until he caught his bearings. The fireworks lighted the sky above their heads, but the mood of the older shinobi which he could see reflecting in the jounin's gray eyes when the man turned to pass a look at his direction before getting pulled into a conversation with some eagerly chatting Kumo nobles was all that Iruka was interested in. Knowing that there were eyes waiting to see what his next move would be, the headmaster of the Shinobi Academy smoothed out his expression and relaxed his shoulders while thinking of a string of words unfitting for a man with his status. Never before had the game of hidden plans and delicate chess over pleasantries felt like an insult to his ego the way it did at that very moment.  
  
With a silent sigh which spoke of steel-hard patience that only a highly trained professional could possess, Iruka turned to admire the beautiful dance of lights and colors before answering to Konohamaru's call over the booms and pangs of the burning black powder and smell of sulfur.

  
Yet gone was the patience when the door to Hokage's personal quarters clicked shut after they had made it back to Konoha.


End file.
